In honor of Valentine’s Day, we asked some folks to share their tales of romantic woe. With so much sweetness, sugar and sentiment in the air, it just seemed right to add a little pain, bitterness and heartache. Here are three that plucked our strings:
She was living in Madison with her soul mate and she hadn’t returned any of my phone calls for three years. I was living in Portland with a group of artists, enrolled in massage school, and I was still madly in love with her. That’s why, after work one night, I bought a book of love spells and then pedaled to the grocery store to pick up the ingredients. My cousin would call this a “dysfunctional and unsober” moment. You see, I have a bad habit of trying to win back girlfriends who dump me.
I wouldn’t say it was like pushing on a bruise to see if it still hurt. It was more like combining courtship with quantum physics. First, I carved the purple potato into a likeness of Jenny. Then, I cut the top of her head open and put a piece of organic chocolate - so whenever she thought of me she would think sweet thoughts. Next, I found one of her old hairs (stuck to that hunting coat she used to wear) and taped it to the potato. Lastly, I stuck her in my attic and waited.
She showed up at my door six days later. She was hiking the Pacific Rim with her man and their car broke down. She spent the night with me. He spent the night with a friend. I gave her a massage and then cried all night. She left the next day and I cried all week. It was horrible.
If history were to record a top 10 of the most inconceivable places to dump someone, this would have to crack the list. Maybe even the top 5..
My college girlfriend and I decided to hike a local mountain one day. I’m sure daffodils were blooming and bluebirds were chirping and all that sloppy crap. I can’t remember. In fact, I’ve blocked out almost everything from that day. All I remember are the barest of facts…like the nausea.
We drove about 45 minutes outside of town and found the trail. When we reached the top of this mountain in the Shenandoah Valley, we set up a picnic, nothing too romantic but nice all the same. From what I’ve been able to piece together from working with my therapist, the sun was out; there was a light breeze; it was mild. A perfect day.
And that’s the time and place she chose to end our blessed union. On top of a freaking mountain.
In retrospect, I don’t think I was all that heartbroken by it. This was not my soulmate. What induced the dry heaves was the realization that we’d have to hike all the way back down then drive back to town together. It was her lack of foresight that was so appalling. Couldn’t she have sat on this nugget until the ride home, or maybe saved us the trip altogether?
To this day I can’t decide what to make of the incident. Was she insane? Did she have a crystal meth habit I had somehow missed? Was she an evil genius or a borderline mongoloid? Who would do such a thing? I guess I’ll never know because I can’t remember anything after the breakup, and we never spoke again.
- Mr. T
I fell in love with this guy at 14. He slept over because he was my brother’s best friend. I stole his toothbrush and the crust from a piece of pizza he was eating. This was 1994, and I still have it. A year later, he asked me out. We dated for four years, four years of hopeless obsessional love. Mind ruining love, the kind that kills you. Sounds stupid because we were so young, but I'm sure others can understand. I have fourteen diaries dedicated entirely to him, letters to him that I never sent. We were both sort of freaks and had no other friends.
After we graduated his parents said they were moving, and moved without him. He stayed at my parent’s house for a beautiful two weeks, sleeping on the couch. Then they sent him a plane ticket. I went to the airport with him, and as he got on the plane he didn't even look back. I had to be escorted out. I got the occasional postcard, the occasional dirty picture then nothing for seven years. People I didn't even know still came up to me and called me “Jeremy’s girl.”
Then one day I was on Myspace and thought to look him up. And found him. We exchanged one email. Two days later I got a call from a woman I didn't know, telling me that he was coming to see me (I didn't believe it, I'm in Richmond and he's in San Francisco). I thought about him so much in that day that I went out and got a tattoo of a picture he had sent me once. Then, the next day I got a knock on my door. It was him. He had driven across the country to see me, and was still the most beautiful man I had ever seen. We spent the day on my couch drinking and recollecting, dreaming of the future together. Had some of the best sex of my life. Then he told me why he came: he was in love and getting married. He's a filmmaker and taped the whole scene, of me finding out and crying. Then he left, but this time he was sure to look back. I got a postcard a few months ago and he has a daughter named after me. Love freaking sucks.
- Laura
In last issue’s “Radio Rebellion” article on WRIR 97.3 FM, the airtime of the Native American music show “Inter Tribal” was incorrectly identified. The show, hosted by DJ Tall Feathers, airs from 6-9am every Saturday morning..
